


rubus idaeus

by Merideath



Series: petrichor [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Faking the Dead, Nomad Steve Rogers, Omega Darcy Lewis, Omega Verse, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Scent Marking, Sleepy Cuddles, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-04 00:02:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20461718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merideath/pseuds/Merideath
Summary: Red raspberries.Sun warmed fruit hanging heavy on the cane. Sweet and tart and so damn good. Steve’s nostrils flare as he drags in another lungful of air filled with the woman sleeping in his arms.





	rubus idaeus

**Author's Note:**

> rubus idaeus : red raspberries
> 
> I have no excuse for this fluff fest other than the fact my brain is perpetually stuck in squirrelly depression mode. The only thing I could focus on, instead of a billion dusty old wips in my gdocs, was writing this sequel to ‘petrichor’. You probably don’t need to read that to understand this, it’s just omega verse cuddling after all, but both are nice and fluffy.
> 
> Thanks go to Aenaria, Little Plebe, windyleaf, and Em_jay for the hand holding and listening to me go on and on about verses that mostly exist only in my mind. And the salt. The salt is very important.
> 
> Even more thanks go to little_plebe for betaing my mess of tense switches because that is the forest thing to go when I can’t focus.

Red raspberries. 

Sun warmed fruit hanging heavy on the cane. Sweet and tart and so damn good. Steve’s nostrils flare as he drags in another lungful of air filled with the scent of the woman sleeping in his arms. 

Decades ago, beyond living memory of all but a handful of people Steve knew, there was the memory of a garden. Eden it wasn’t but for one week, when he and Bucky were barely teenagers, they pulled weeds and cut themselves to ribbons on blackberry vines. 

The neglected garden was owned by Mrs Douglas who Bucky sweet talked into letting them take the job for two jars of preserves and a few copper pennies. Neither boy had the faintest clue what to do with a spade and handfuls of dirt. Steve’s nose streamed like a faucet, beads of red blood welling up on stick thin forearms as the sun warmed the heavy summer air. They picked buckets full of blackberries until their fingers and mouths stained purple, hollow bellies filled. 

In a corner of the garden where the afternoon light stretched out in languid golden strips, there were raspberry canes bent over heavy with crimson fruit. Steve pulled a berry from the vine and popped it between his lips. The berry was warm from the sun, fresh and sweet, with almost a floral note, as if the fruit had been kissed by rose petals. Beneath the soft sweetness, the fruit held a tartness that popped against the tongue like the sudden shock of a firework.

Darcy Lewis smells like those raspberries from Mrs Douglas’ garden, and it takes everything in Steve’s power to keep himself from burying his nose in the curve of her neck. He wants to nuzzle and lick at her neck, revel in the faint earthy scent of her impending heat, roll her scent over his tongue, sink his teeth in... 

Steve startles at the primal turn of his thoughts. The Omega isn’t his no matter how much she’s draped over his lap taking warmth and comfort from him. 

A whine of distress spills from Darcy’s full pink lips and she shivers in his arms. The bitter scent of distressed omega tickles his nose. It’s the scent she’s been giving off since AIM broke into Foster’s lab, and the only thing that saved Darcy was her own strong will and more than a little luck that he and Natasha were minutes away. 

Anger curls in his belly, a beast with fangs and claws as sharp as his senses. Anger at AIM, and anger at Darcy’s pack abandoning her. Leaving an unbonded Omega alone with no pack is an unforgivable sin in Steve Rogers’ book, even if it’s become an old fashioned sentiment in these modern times. Asgardians don’t have pack dynamics like humans, but the beta Dr. Foster sure as hell does. 

A low growl rips up from Steve’s chest. He knows he’s being unreasonable and petty, thinking with his hindbrain, but he can’t help it. Darcy whimpers again and Steve freezes, cutting off the growl threatening to vibrate through his chest. He takes a deep breath, raspberries and salt and below that the faintly spicy scent of impending heat. The Alpha in him, that primal hindbrain wants to build a nest with her, shower her with gifts. God help him, he wants to claim her as part of his Pack. _His_ Omega. He wants to mark up her neck with his teeth. 

Letting out a shaky breath, Steve pulls Darcy fully into his lap, tucking her face into his neck. “Shhh, Darcy. You’re safe,” he rumbles, stroking his hand over the back of her head through the messy waves of her hair. 

The tip of Darcy’s nose brushes over his pulse point as she nuzzles into him, a soft sigh fanning out across his skin leaving trails of goosebumps in its wake. A purr rumbles up from his belly as he pets the little Omega in his lap. 

“You want anything, Steve? Natalia and Wilson went on a supply run,” Bucky calls out softly from the doorway.

“Nah, I’m good,” Steve says. 

“What about the Omega you’re rubbing your scent all over?”

“I’m not,” Steve snaps back. He stills his movements, fingers woven into the dark waves of Darcy’s hair. It’s not his hand that’s the problem. It’s the way his wrist is turned so the scent gland brushes over her hair and down over shoulder and back. The cardigan she’s wearing is his, so it already carried his scent but now the fabric is fairly drowning in his scent. “Shit.”

“Never seen you outta yer tree for an Omega before,” Bucky says, brow furrowing in thought. “I don’t think.”

Steve shrugs. “Only Omegas I really knew were Ma and Becca.”

“The USO girls?” 

“All Betas. Less trouble that way.” He very carefully doesn’t think about what trouble actually occurred on the tour or call to attention the gap in Bucky’s memory. 

“So you say. Hmmm, what about the fans before your untimely demise?” Bucky presses as he leans against the wall beside the doorway leading into the little kitchen. 

Steve winces at the reminder that Captain America died during the fall of SHIELD in D.C. a little over a year ago. “Never wanted ‘em as Pack.” 

“And you want Miss Lewis as Pack or do ya want her as a mate?” Bucky asks, scenting the air reflexively.

“It’s not,” Steve licks his lips. “It’s not like that, Buck.” 

“Not yet maybe but you were practically quiverin’ when she offered up her scent to you.”

“Fuck you, Buck,” Steve growls. He can’t do anything to stop the flush that rolls up the back of his neck and colors the tips of his ears.

Darcy stirs at the vibration in his chest, her mouth brushing over his neck. The tip of her tongue flicks out over his skin in a hot wet slide that feeds right into his hindbrain. Then she inhales sharply, “Oh, god!” Her limbs flail about as she scrambles off of his lap into an indignant heap on the floor. “How long did I sleep for?”

“Coupla hours.”

“You...you held me for hours? Why?”

“You needed me, uh, Pack,” Steve shrugs.

“Pack?” Darcy asks, face scrunching up in confusion. 

“It ain’t just pack, it’s your dummy of an Alpha,” Bucky says, pushing off from the wall and stalking further into the living room. 

“He’s not,” Darcy huffs out from her spot on the ugly floral carpet. 

“Nothin’ to be ashamed of, little Omega. It’s just how pack is, yanno.” Bucky shrugs. He drops down on the sofa beside Steve and reaches out to swipe his wrist against his. 

“I feel like I’m missing something,” Darcy says, curling into herself a little bit. She tucks her chin down and lets her hair fall around her face. “Ugh.” 

Steve’s fingers twitch with the desire to reach forward and tuck the errant strands of her hair back, but he holds himself still. He lets out a slow breath and lets himself sink back into the cushions. There is no way to make himself smaller but he can relax the tension in his body, let the calming presence of his packmate and brother wash over him, and ignore the scent of amusement wafting from Bucky.

“What’s that thing Natalia says? Oh yeah. You didn’t grow up in a pack and it shows,” Bucky teases, a smirk curling up his lips.

“That’s so very wrong,” Darcy says, rolling her eyes. 

“He’s not though, is he?” Steve says softly. He desperately wants to pull the Omega into his lap again. Pull her hair back and nuzzle her neck just a little bit.

Darcy nibbles at her bottom lip, one arm curling over her belly, the other gripping the cardigan closed in her fist. Her eyes flutter shut as she dips her nose to breathe in the scent of the cardigan. 

His scent. 

A low purr rumbles up from Steve’s throat. He has to shove his hands beneath his thighs to keep them from reaching out for her. 

“I’ve got Jane and Thor.”

“Thor’s not human.”

“I know that. I was there when he fell right outta the sky,” Darcy says. Her lips quirk in that way they usually do when referencing something he doesn’t quite get. “My parents are Betas, they didn’t belong to a Pack. They weren’t real happy with me being yanno...”

“Omega,” Steve says, voice vibrating with pure Alpha. The word lingers in the space between them. His whole body feels tight and warm, gut twisting up in knots. The hot coal of anger that lives in his chest igniting into a burning flame. 

“Tone down the Alpha, Stevie,” Bucky says. They share a glance. Bucky’s eyes clear and a little pinched around the corners. Whatever Darcy’s not saying is worse than what she’s hinting at. Bucky reaches up and ruffles Steve’s hair, breaking the waves of tension building within Steve’s chest. 

Bucky was always the one with the cooler head when it came to pretty much everything. The history books wrote him off as the bad boy, the terrible influence in Captain America’s life before the serum. The truth is a different creature altogether. 

Captain America might have been the poster boy Alpha girls swooned over. Steve Rogers though? Steve was every bit his mother’s son, willing to fight every injustice, every bully, and every unfair law he ever encountered. Bucky knows far too many of Steve’s past sins. Even with the gaps in his memory, they were slowly piecing together.

“Quit it,” Steve grumbles, batting Bucky’s hand away. 

“None of this is what I expected when you visited Thor or saved me from the yellowjackets,” Darcy says softly. Her wide blue eyes flick back and forth between him and Bucky the corner of her mouth twitching up in a fleeting smirk. 

“We didn’t save you. We came to help you save yourself,” Steve says, internally wincing at his earnest tone.

“Wow, that was awful smooth, Cap.”

“She’s got the awful part right,” Bucky says, flashing a grin that is all teeth. “I have a question for you, Darcy Lewis. How do you feel now that you’ve been cuddled in your Alpha’s lap, drowning in his stink?”

“Hey,” Steve growls.

Darcy opens and closes her mouth, a furrow appearing between her brows. “I feel...I don’t know. I mean I’m getting a little cold again but I don’t feel all squirrelly anxious and...lonely. Safe. I feel safe and kinda happy? That’s weird.” 

“Didja know it goes both ways? As blissed out as you were being cuddled up, so was Steve,” Bucky informs her, reaching into his pocket for a smartphone. He flicks his flesh thumb across the screen and offers up the phone to Darcy. 

“Oh my Frigga! You’ve got to send me that,” Darcy squeals high pitched and loud.

Both Bucky and Steve wince, Bucky going so far as to wiggle a finger into his ear. 

Steve plucks the phone from Omega’s hand. The image is hardly scandalous, Darcy draped over his lap blissed out in his sweater. Steve looks just as blissed out, eyes hooded, head tilted back with a soft smile, a light flush dusting across is cheekbones as he cards his fingers through Darcy’s wild hair. 

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen the punk that happy.”

“Is it just because of the Omega thing?”

“No,” Steve says. “I’ll admit you smell damn good but you were in distress.” He waves his hand when Darcy opens her mouth to protest. “You’ve been stressed out, worried and afraid since we got here. It’s why we kept as much distance as we could-“

“Speak for yourself.”

“I’m trying, Buck, but you keep interrupting me,” Steve sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Shouldn’t you be out on patrol, anyway?”

“Bitch, bitch,” Bucky says, rolling up to his feet. The scent of his amusement wafts over Steve, overlaying Bucky’s natural scent of wood shavings, funnel cake and the wintery scent of Natasha marked into his skin. He grips Steve’s shoulder for a moment before pacing out of the room on silent feet. 

“Do you want to stay on the floor all night or you wanna sit on the couch?” Steve asks, holding out a hand. 

Darcy worries at her bottom lip, blue eyes lost in thought. “Can we…” she murmurs, voice trailing off as a pink blush warms her cheeks. “Ugh, stupid.” 

“Can we what?” Steve presses, though he’s pretty sure he knows what she wants despite the spike of anxiety coloring her sun warmed raspberry scent.

“Cuddle some more?”

“I’d like nothing better,” he says, face lighting up with a grin.

Her nostrils flare slightly and a soft smile drifts across her lips when she catches the scent of truth in his words. She reaches out to place her hand in his, her fingertips dragging across the heel of his palm until her small hand flattens over his forearm. Steve mirrors her grip, allowing the scent glands on their wrists to rub together, marking each other with scent. 

All it takes is one little tug and Darcy’s up on the couch with him. Not in his lap though, which is a little more disappointing than he wants to admit to. She settles down curled into his side, his arm draping over her back and the scratchy little lap blanket tucked around her legs. 

“Better?” he asks softly. 

“Mhmm,” Darcy hums, leaning her head to rest over his heart. They stay like that for what feels like an eternity. Darcy’s scent mingling with his as it fills his lungs. His body relaxes back into the couch cushions and he pulls her tighter into him, tilting his head down to nuzzle into Darcy’s hair, a deep satisfied purr rattling through his chest.

**Author's Note:**

> FYI I have some raspberry canes that seeded from next door. They keep coming back and I’m not mad at that as they are gorgeous and I know for a fact if we actually planted them that they never would have survived. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and I hope this bit of fluff made your day a little bit brighter.
> 
> P.S. there is going to be a Darcyland Autumn Revival going on in October. Just a little way to spread a little love for Darcy and the early movies when we were a fandom full of hope. Details here:
> 
> [Darcyland Autumn Revival 2019](https://typhoidmeri.tumblr.com/post/187371721638/the-darcyland-autumn-revival-aka-tasers-and)


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